New Kid
by Boriqua-chan
Summary: Determined, I picked up my worn Romeo And Juliet and stole peeks at him during the class. I wouldn't be like Temari. I wouldn't stalk the guy I liked… I would befriend him, to the best of my ability. I would get to know him, to love him.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N:_ Okay…

**This story **_**will not**___**be updated as soon as my others (not that those are updated on a daily basis either. sorry). This is just for when I get stuck on something and want to write or when I**** inspiration or need help or…other things like that. You know? You know, right? At least it's longer than most.**

**So, onward and upward!**

**This **_**is**_** AU (Alternate Universe)**

**Review, please. Thank you, fans and newcomers!**

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_Open mouthed gawk. Wide eyes. "He is mine," determined stare._

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_Boring, boring, boring…,_ my inner droned on. I slumped farther into the palm of my hand. I had learned this already. There was so much not right with moving—especially moving to another _country_. Did Mom not know I was perfectly fine in Suna? Didn't I tell her I was doing good in school? That a "change in scenery," as she called it, would only hinder my progress? That I had been taking _honors_ classes at home—where Gaara could tutor me if it was needed? Now I can't even talk to my "brother."

I missed Gaara. I missed my brother. Of course, he wasn't really my brother; we were just raised together. He was the closest thing to a brother I'd ever get, considering my mother's sexuality. The redhead was my lifeline when it came to my mom, when I wanted a laugh, or when I just needed a shoulder to cry on. He's about three years older than me.

And Temari, too. I missed her. It was my shoulder she used when she needed to cry. Mine was the ear she wined into about her day or about anything else. When we needed a day in the mall, we went with each other. She's five years older than I am.

Kankuro as well. Him and his puppets. I laughed under my breath. Honestly, one could not pull that boy away from those things. Some would say it was an unhealthy obsession, but his family—and that includes me—says it's just a childish thing some people never grow out of. I'll never grow out of my immature sticking-out-my-tongue attitude, Temari will never grow out of her shop-till-we-drop values, Gaara will never grow out of his death glower, and Kankuro will never grow out of his puppets, no matter his age—if he was my age, Gaara's age, Temari's age, or four years older than I am now.

Some silver-haired pervert—who thinks himself a teacher—walked around the front of the room, repeating a lesson my uncle had already taught. Said pervert seemed nice enough…but his voice was _so_ effing soothing and I barely got any sleep last night! He was putting me to sleep. I know he's a perv because I saw him reading my uncle's brother's porn book.

I sighed and dug myself deeper into my palm. My pink locks fell to my green eyes. I eagerly put them behind my ear, glad to have something—_anything_—to do. _Kami, take me out of my misery,_ I begged God.

Kakashi-sensei continued in his lazy tone, "And in the Renaissance, da Vinci invented the helicopter. But the technology needed…"

_Yeah, yeah—wasn't invented yet to make it_… Blah, blah, blah! What I wouldn't _do_ to have Gaara at my side right now. At least he would make this _bearable_. A known face would make me less despondent. Frowning, I doodled Gaara's tattoo onto the margins of my notes. And then when I was done those awesome red things on his forehead, I went on to Temari's blue-green eyes. And Kankuro's always-there purple smirk. That dude was _in love_ with face paint. I couldn't say I blamed him, it _did_ work for him.

A gloved hand slammed down on my paper. I felt wimpy. Scared, my eyes counted the five white fingers that both had trapped my pencil and covered Temari's eyes. I whimpered softly and shrunk down in my seat. "Haruno Sakura…" he said my name slowly, as if wanting to draw out the most pain from my eyes that he could. Too bad I wasn't looking at him. "It seems we are missing a boyfriend. Are we?" He lifted the page from my desk, his one visible dark eye appraising the smirk, tattoo, and eyes.

"No, Kakashi-sensei," I muttered.

"Well then? Who are you drawing during my history class?"

I stared at the place where my page once laid. "Not one someone. Three someone_s_. My family—the tattoo is my brother's…the eyes are my sister…the smirk is my other brother…" I mumbled lowly.

"Homesickness? Didn't they come with you?" Kakashi-sensei asked. I couldn't see his eyes, but his tone showed something like sympathy. I didn't want sympathy, but I wasn't going to lie either.

"No, sensei. They stayed in Suna." No need to tell him we weren't biologically related, right? If I was going to get sympathy, I might as well milk it.

"And why did you come?"

"I didn't want to leave Mom alone," I whispered. It was true. They _had _ asked me to stay. The page lightly landed on my twirling fingers. I hadn't notice I started to play with them until the paper landed. I felt like Hinata. I missed Hinata. Shyly, I looked up to see Kakashi's soft eye.

"Don't doodle, Sakura-chan. You'll miss the lesson," he murmured. I smiled, happy to have no reproach. He was so nice, aside his lazy behavor. His eye hardened to the teacher stare he had given me at the beginning of the class. "Da Vinci's first name?"

"Leonardo."

"What did he work with?"

"Everything."

"Did you have this lesson before?"

"Yes."

"You are excused."

"Arigatō," I muttered before picking up my things and swinging my bag over my shoulder. As I slipped out the door, I heard Kakashi-sensei saying something about _The Last Supper_. I grinned. I decided I liked him. He was like my mom. If I knew something, she wouldn't bother saying it again.

My green snakeskin bag, bouncing alongside my shoulder, reminded me of my cell phone. I dug for it. Unlocking the HTC, I searched for Hinata's number. She had called me this morning, saying she was sick. She'd need someone to talk to. I searched the contacts until I found Hinata's shy, lavender eyes staring at me from inside her picture. It rang five times.

"Sakura-chan," she sniffled, "aren't you in school?"

I grinned. "I got let out 'cause I knew it all." Hinata's soft voice heightened to a sneeze. "You still have that cold?"

"H-h-hai…" She sneezed again. I could imagine her playing with her fingers on that king-sized bed of hers. "What are you d-d-d-doing?"

I ignored her stutter, used to it. Her father was an asshole for doing what he did to her. "Walking. Why?"

"Be-be-because a cousin of mine has-has lunch no-no-now," she stuttered. "You're-you're-you're in Uchiha High? He has a-a scholarship there."

"Does he?" I turned the corner. There was a door staring me right in the face. Above it was a sign that said, _Shokudō_. Talk about luck. "I just found the dinning room." Phone to my ear, I pushed the door open. The buzz of the lunchtime hit my ears through the cell phone. Shouts erupted. My eyes flipped from wooden table to wooden table.

"Really? He has long hair…"

I spotted dark brown hair, swaying with soft laughter, from my place in the corner of the wall. He had a soft face, with eyes identical to Hinata's. It was undoubtedly that this was the Hyūga cousin from the second branch. "Brown hair? Lavender eyes?" I asked. Hinata's soft approval was only a background noise. "Do you want to talk to her?" I waited for her 'yes.' "Alright. What's his name?"

"Neji."

Confident, I strode to him. He was right next to a brunette with a pineapple ponytail, another brunette that was so dang cute with his flab and cubby cheeks—like a little baby—and some guy in green spandex. I refuse to go into detail of how _tight_ it fit him. Shudder. Another brunette, a girl, had panda-ear buns. She smiled at me. Neji looked at me with cryptic mauve eyes.

"Hey, Neji," I smiled. My third mother—mother of my three "siblings"—loved the secure smile. "I have your cousin on the phone—Hinata, not Hanabi." I listened to Hinata's soft voice coming through.

"Tel-tell him I-I miss him…," she muttered. Her shy smile and finger-playing came into my mind's-eye. I could even see her eyes as if they were right in front of me. Which, in a way, they were—on Neji's face.

"She's sick," I tell Neji, looking him in the eye. "She misses you."

Neji's peach hands tightened around each other. He frowned at me. Pupil-less eyes glared at me. In that glower, they've lost their resemblance to Hinata. No one with eyes as hard and rude as those could be related in any way to my shy little girl, who I loved enough for her to be my daughter. No one with cruel eyes could be a Hyūga. Neji growled at me, "Do I know you?"

I smiled, determined. "Nope! Not at all. I'm Haruno Sakura, Hinata's friend."

"Can-can I speak to h-him?" She sneezed again.

I turned my face to the cell phone cradled between my cheek and shoulder. I spoke into the receiver. "Sure, Hinata-chan. Don't be so shy." I nodded, almost sure that she could hear the small gust of air whooshing and that she would know I was encouraging her. I turned to the longhaired seventeen—perhaps, maybe he was eighteen—year old. I pulled the phone from my ear and stretched over the table to give it to him. Neji looked at me like I was nuts—which I might've been, for all he knew. "Are you just as shy as her? It's just Hinata!" Skeptically, he took it from me.

"Hinata-chan?" he asked. A smile spread through his face. My doubts were gone. This was Hinata's relative. It was obvious in the way he lighted up. I smiled at their similarity. Hinata always lights up when she speaks to her family. I sat in the crevice left between Spandex and Ponytail.

"Hi!" I beamed. "I'm Sakura. You are?"

Spandex grinned back. "Yosh! The new kid!" I held back a groan. "You have youthful hair," he commented. I scowled.

"If you're trying to say 'pink,' I know. Before you say anything, it isn't dyed. My mom just…got sperm from the wrong bank," I worded the sentence carefully, trying to elute the least laughs. "Your name?"

"Rock Lee."

"Hey, Lee. Nice to meet you." I turned to the dude in the ponytail. "And yours?"

The guy's big eyes had little black irises. Those eyes were half-lidded. I guessed he was falling asleep. "Don't you pay any mind to him," the girl told me. I switched my attention to her. Her smile powered mine. "That's Shikamaru. He's lazy."

I giggled. "Figures. I think he's asleep."

The girl looked at me with brown eyes. "I'm TenTen. The chubby one is Chōji. He's nice. You meet Lee—Konoha's Beautiful Green Wild Beast, as he calls himself. He's…_youthful_." I got the feeling I was missing some kind of inside joke. "And you know Neji—"

I laughed nervously and dragged my short rosy hair to my shoulder. I played with a thick lock. "I don't… I know his cousin. She wanted to talk to him…"

TenTen laughed. "You're funny, Sakura. Hey, I checked your schedule yesterday. _Hey_, don't look at me like that—my dad's the guidance counselor! Anyway, shouldn't you be in History with Kakashi?"

I grinned. "He let me off. I knew what he was teaching." I heard Chōji munching. "Leonardo da Vinci is _easy_."

"Hum-hum…" TenTen agreed. "After this, what do you have?"

"After your lunch, I have lunch," I said. "I think…" I swung my bag over onto the table and pulled out the notes I drew on and the cardboard paper they gave me with my nine periods on it. Period 6 was next. "Yup, lunch." TenTen's brown eyes turned to Neji's preoccupied state.

"Good. I think I can get someone"—she nodded her head to Neji—"to pull some strings."

I grinned. I missed my family, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad here.

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Moaning, I poked the goop on my plastic plate. I guess it didn't matter where you were—private school or not—lunch food was lunch food. I swear I saw it move. "Kami, ew!"

TenTen laughed. "Tell me about it. At least be grateful that it doesn't wink at you like last year's did."

Food winked? Maybe I should be more grateful. That settled it. "I miss Gaara." I slammed the tray down onto the table we were sitting at before. Neji was still in his chair, laughing and smiling—frowning when she sneezed, I guessed—with Hinata. Lee, Chōji, and Shikamaru had gone to Study Hall, where I deduced that Shikamaru would sleep, Lee shout _Yosh!_, and Chōji munch on potato chips.

TenTen sat next to me. "Gaara? The son of Suna's president?" Oh yeah. Uncle Kamdre was Kazekage. I had forgotten. I nodded. "You dated him?"

I groaned and slammed my fists to the table. "Why is that everyone's first guess? My mom was best friends with Karura before she died. She was my godmother. Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari. Gaara just happens to be my best friend."

TenTen's mouth made a little "o". I nodded. I glared at the clock above the doors. _Come on time…go faster…_, I willed. The bell rang. Time for the rest of the students to come in. A swarm of kids swamped in, fast as buzzing bees. TenTen gave my face a one-over. "Go throw that away. You're not going to eat it."

I gave her a grateful smile and ran to the trashcan. Coming back, I smiled at Neji. "Hey, Neji-san? Can I have my HTC back? I promise to give you her new number." Unwillingly, he gave it over. "Thank you," I said, then gave him the digits. I put the phone to my ear. "Hey, Hinata-chan?"

Hinata coughed, "Sakura-chan…"

"The teachers'll see us; I got to go. Talk to you later. Tell the guys I say hi."

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Lunch was over pretty quickly after I stopped glaring at the crap that was food. The bell rang seconds after I checked my schedule. I hit my head—duh, Study Hall! "See you at Math, Sakura!" TenTen called as she was dragged away by the waves of people. I nodded and followed the crowd to room C4. I sat by the door, so when I left I would be the first out and avoid the crowd. I grabbed a book—

—Only to drop it.

He was perfect, beautiful. My heart beat faster when our eyes met for a fraction of a second. Cold, dark eyes—the type of eyes that held mysteries and hidden secrets. Secrets that I needed to unlock. His hair was laughable, but that was its charm. Like a duck's butt. I needed to know his name. I needed to _know_ him.

He was mine.

Determined, I picked up my worn _Romeo And Juliet_ and stole peeks at him during the class. I wouldn't be like Temari. I wouldn't stalk the guy I liked… I would befriend him, to the best of my ability. I would get to know him, to love him. If I couldn't, he wasn't worth it. And with his mysterious ways, he was worth it.

He. Was. Mine.

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What you think? Continue?

**Review!**

**And—**

"**Question of the Chapter!": **_**Who is that mystery man!**_** (If you can't guess, you're stupid. HELLO! DUCK-BUTT HAIR!)**

**Love and Saku(mysteryman), forever.**


	2. Author's Note

**Okay, you know what?**

**I've decided that this **_**whole entire**_** story will be ****_**YOUR**_**** idea! You guys have to give me the following.**

**Gist of it**

**First sentence/paragraph (depending on what you want)**

**Who you want in the Chapter**

**POV [AKA Point of View](if you want it changed on this chapter)**

**Subject you want it to be in (as in History…English…World Language…)**

**Now, POV may or may not be ignored, depending on what I see fit. IF you don't tell me what you want, this story will **_**never**_** get a second chapter. SMILES! AND REVIEW—**_**or else**_**. :-)**


	3. Chapter 2

**This chapter is based on the paragraph my new buddy, KillerMay, gave me. This is her idea. Anything underlined is hers. This is hers. Thanks! :)**

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_Smile. Smirk. "Look at that. I'm three months older than you." Glare._

—*—*—*—*—

I sighed longingly into my October Journal. This stupid English teacher wanted me to write this whole journal just to answer ten, itty, bitty, stupid questions—like, _what would you do if you were a jack-o'-lantern_ and _what do you do on Halloween?_ What I sighed for longingly were two very simple things—to see my Mystery Man and to get the fuck out of this easy as hell class.

Was that too much to ask?

Growling, I finished my tenth question with fifteen sentences on "if there should be a dress code in public places." With nothing else to do, I rested my head on my forearm. I tried remembering why I wasn't reading my worn, broken, used, tattered Shakespeare. Wait, right—I had finished it.

I sighed and raised my hand. The nice, calm Shizune-sensei smiled at me. "Hai, Sakura-chan?"

"May I go to the library? I have nothing to do," I told her. She creased her dark brown eyes. Those eyes were so dark; one with an untrained eye would think them black.

"Nothing to do? I've given you two periods worth…"

"I finished," I said, grinning sheepishly. The class looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

Shizune sighed. "Please, go ahead. Do you know how to get there?"

I grinned. "Oh, I'll find it out." I had a really good sense of direction. I planed to use that for more than just finding the _r__aiburari_. I smiled wider and walked out the door, watching the ceiling tiles glow with lights and letting my own feet guide me.

There was nothing good in the library. Boo-hoo for me.

—*—*—*—*—

As the school day continued, I learned absolutely nothing about the identity of Mystery Man. If he's that…I'll say, pretty for lack of a better word—obviously someone must know him. Okay, wait**—**I think I'm starting to sound like a stalker. I promised myself I wouldn't be that. He probably has plenty of those. Of those people that "know" him. However, just when luck was lost of seeing him in anything else besides Study Hall of all things, I saw him in the library.

And I thought there was nothing good in the library.

I watched curiously through the window-wall of the monumental library. All that space and you'd think there'd be something good to read, right? Fuck no. At least there was something good to _see_. I glanced down at the pass in my hand. It said _l__aissez-passer __gratuit_. I was, of course, the only good one in the class. I officially loved that teacher. Wasn't it too bad that I couldn't remember his name? This place allowed a lot of free time. Stupid, retarded, pampered school.

Smiling, I walked through the door. The wooden pass that was in my hand now made a decoration on my jean skirt's belt loops. I walked to the bookshelf he was looking at. I had been through every book on this section's ten-foot bookshelf in less than forty minutes. This was the French Revolution section—where the blood and guts lay.

I tapped his strong-looking shoulder, which was staring me in the eye. He was a head taller than me. Nice. I liked tall guys. They were sexy. "Excuse me, but most of the books here don't have anything about blood or guts. Just politics and romance."

He turned around, his dark onyx eyes staring me down. I probably looked like a freak to him—some random girl with pink hair, probably wanting attention, in a short knee-length skirt with a big ass hoodie covering her upper half, telling him what was good and what wasn't. I blushed under the scrutiny of his depthless eyes, but kept my eyes glued to his, refusing to be weak.

"How would you know, Sakura?" he asked. They way he said my name was melting. He separated each syllable and layered each one in his black-velvet tone of voice.

I wanted to explain to him that I had been here before, but what came out instead was, "How the hell did you know my name?" I pursed my lips. "Why the hell don't I know yours?"

Mystery Man gave me a lopsided smile, the kind specifically designed to liquefy people from the inside out. "Hn…" He turned back to the shelf, his mysterious black eyes peeking at me from the corner of his eye.

I grinned. I couldn't help it—his smirk did that kind of thing to people, apparently. "Come on, dude, name—you know, _na_, na,_ name?_ Do you have one, stranger?"

He turned, a book in his hand. _The Red Necklace_—great book, a chick book, but a great book nonetheless. "Sasuke," he told me. Huh…Sasuke. Sexy Sasuke. I liked that. He was named after Sarutobi Sasuke, the famous folklore ninja hero. I wonder why he was named after him.

"Alright," I said, smiling. I walked to the front of the bookshelf. "I don't like being ignored, Sasuke. It's one of the things I don't take well."

Sasuke smirked at me, amused, I guess. "I don't like talking. It's one of the things I don't take well," he quoted me.

I laughed. "Witty," I murmured between giggles. "I'm here, and I so very rarely shut up, so learn, buddy, learn."

He chuckled at me.

I sighed out of my giggle fit, leaning over the book he had in his hand to see if I'd read the cover right. It didn't seem like the kind of book any self-respecting guy would walk around with. "I love that book. I don't think you'd like it though. Blood, yes; guts, yes; pistols, yes—all of that you'd probably like. However, romance is the deal-breaker for most guys," I told him.

Sasuke ran a hand through his dark, midnight colored hair. His chicken-ass tresses looked like a starless midnight sky. It was an amazing color. "I know." Cool. Sensitive guy. Smile. "My mom wants it." Even better—a guy who loves his mom. They say that how a man treats his mother is indicator of how he'll treat his wife. Wait—that's stalkerish. I refuse to be stalkerish.

"Your mom has good taste, Sasuke," I approved.

"Hn…"

Did he insist on making every silence this awkward? He was staring at me like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time—like a blind man that wanted to be blind again. Okay, so maybe I wasn't the most normal of people. It wasn't my fault! I blame my mom and her weirdness; it rubbed off. Eh, but what the hell, right? Either take me as I am or watch me as I go.

When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade; when life gives you silence, you make small talk! "I'm seventeen, you are?"

"Seventeen."

"When were you born, Sasuke?"

"July."

Well. This was getting us nowhere. If he was just going to keep giving me one-word answers, I might as well be talking to a wall. I sighed. "Look, Sasuke. I'm trying to be nice and make new friends in this boring hellhole of a school. My friends don't have class with me and I'm pissed off," I lied. "You seem like a nice guy, other than the antisocial crap—"

"I am _not_ antisocial," he cut in.

I smiled. I had found his weak spot. Or rather, weak spot_s_, because a person who liked proving people wrong also disliked being proven wrong or argued with. My grin spread across my cheeks demurely.

"Are to."

"Am not."

"To."

"Not."

"_To_."

Sasuke glared at me and slammed the book back into its shelf. I sat down at one of the tables near the spot we were standing. "I," he uttered slowly, as if he wanted me to get each and every word. "Am. Not." His teeth clenched at the end of the three words.

I laughed and crossed my legs, resting my arms over my knees. "Think about it, Sasuke. You don't like to talk; you refuse to give me anything more than one-word answer; and you don't want to be proven wrong…it all leads to antisocial." Kami, I was good at getting answers from him!

He sat down next to me, his strong legs swung over the back of the chair. "I will prove I'm not."

I shot my hands to the air gratefully. "There is a god! Sasuke said more than two words!" He chuckled at me. I couldn't help but giggle with him. I looked back to him. "Alright. How are you going to prove it?"

"Ask a question, any question."

I hummed and tapped my chin. "Alright. Answer them in more than two words, okay?"

"Sure, Sakura," his black velvet voice told me. There was a smirk hidden under layers of sarcasm. I smiled at that.

"Hummm…" I extended the M for a while. "When were you born, Sasuke?"

"I was born in July, on the twenty third," he told me.

I smiled. He smirked in response. "Look at that—I'm three months older than you. You're a little boy." He glared at me maliciously.

"And you're ten times dumber than I am," he countered.

I slammed my hands on the thick table. "Are not!" I whisper-shouted. We _were_ in the library, after all.

"Au contraire, mademoiselle," Sasuke smirked. I guess he noticed the French pass hanging from my skirt. I smiled. "I'm in the advanced classes, and you, Sakura, are not. Therefore, I am smarter than you."

Was I? What kind of stupid people would put a girl who was taking collage-level classes in Suna in general-level classes? "Back home I was taking collage classes, Sasuke. Thus, I have to tell you that _I_ am ten times smarter than _you_ I also have to tell you to tell me where those offices are so that I can fix that, but that's beside the point."

He laughed. I blinked twice as Sasuke tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and laughed. It was an amazing sound—music to anyone's ears. The sound was velvet covered in silk enclosed in cotton sheltered in ivory. I recovered before his head came back up.

"I can help with that," he said, his cheeks red from lack of air. His tone was surprisingly indifferent after two minutes of showing emotion. "I'll talk to my dad. Expect to have classes with us 'nerds' in a week."

I frowned, pretending to be serious. "Does the baby need his daddy to change his diaper?" I teased.

Sasuke glared at me. "No," he growled, "the baby needs his filthy rich daddy to help an irritating ingrate who's annoying the baby with her remarks."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. "Sorry, Sasuke." He rolled his melanoid eyes at me. "Hey, what's your last name?"

Sasuke looked at me like I was nuts. "Don't you incorporate the name Sasuke with anything?"

I gave a giggle. "Yeah—Sarutobi Sasuke, the renown mythical ninja hero."

He looked at me indifferently now; the only thing that gave away his surprise were his dark eyes. They were a little wider. "Where the hell are you from—Jupiter?"

I giggled. "No. I'm from Sunagakure."

Sasuke nodded. "Uchiha," he answered my question.

Uchiha…Uchiha… Why did that name sound familiar? Oh, right. Uchiha High. "So, you own the school?" I asked.

Sasuke sighed exasperatedly. "Hai."

I glared at him. "And you can't even get any new books? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Sasuke smirked, expecting something more along the lines of _'OMG! Will you sign my hand—n__ashi, my head—nashi, nashi, my leg!'_ or something like that. "I'll have to tell dad that."

"You better!" I glanced at the clock. "I have to go. My _temps__libre_ is up." I stood up from the chair, smiling. I glanced at the glass door I came through. "New books, Sasuke, new books," I told him, and then ran out the door.

—*—*—*—*—

I had a very productive day, all in all. I didn't plan on talking to Sasuke until tomorrow and I had already made a new friend. I had gotten new books for the library and gotten lifted to the Honors classes.

I felt good.

—*—*—*—*—

**Nashi means no.**  
**Sarutobi Sasuke's folklore thing is true. Na means name.**

**She has French because those of us up in America have Spanish and I was wondering: What is the language opposite Japanese, other than Chinese? I came up with French.**

**And look at that—earlier than expected. You got to love Bori (short for _Bori_qua-chan), right? It's short but it's here. :-)**

**Disclaimer:**

**This Chapter _is_ KillerMay's. Neither her nor I own Naruto or its characters. That I know of. If I am distantly related to Masashi Kishimoto, then (*insert touchdown dance*) "WHOOP WHOOP!" for me. If KillerMay is, I am happy for her (not as happy as I would be if it were me but _still_). And if it is her that owns Naruto and has not made Sasuke-kun come to his senses by realizing that he loves Sakura, than KillerMay just has to watch out, doesn't she now? All I know is that I own the writing. _I don't even own the idea for this effing chapter, only the original story design!_**

**Merry Christmas, HappyHanukkah, Happy New Year, Happy Three Kings' Day, Happy— You know what? Let's just leave it at this—_Happy Holidays!_**


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